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My Horrible Commute
May. 17th, 2012 09:47 pmWhen I work from home, my regular morning commute is the long slog from the bedroom downstairs to the computer cave. If I'm in a hurry, I can cover that distance in five seconds; if I'm still half asleep, it can take as long as a full minute.
Working from California, however, my commute has grown enormously.
This photo is taken from the couch in my hotel room where I'm sipping a chilled glass of ginger ale. The red arrow indicates my office. The unfeeling bastards make me get dressed every day, walk out of the hotel, across the alley to the front of the building and press an eleveator button to take me to the 6th floor where I then have to walk unaided to my workstation.
The horror of it all is worthy of a Stephen King novel. In fact, it might be the only plot he hasn't used yet in some novel or another. Hey, Stephen! Call me!
Working from California, however, my commute has grown enormously.
This photo is taken from the couch in my hotel room where I'm sipping a chilled glass of ginger ale. The red arrow indicates my office. The unfeeling bastards make me get dressed every day, walk out of the hotel, across the alley to the front of the building and press an eleveator button to take me to the 6th floor where I then have to walk unaided to my workstation.
The horror of it all is worthy of a Stephen King novel. In fact, it might be the only plot he hasn't used yet in some novel or another. Hey, Stephen! Call me!
